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“Why would we need to get to know each other?”
It’s the verbal equivalent of a slap to the face.
“I’m twenty years older than you. Perhaps that doesn’t seem like much, considering the length of our lives, but I assure you, we likely have nothing in common.” He sighs and refastens his belt-buckle. “Bailey, you’re intelligent. You’ll be a good queen. You’ll raise our children with an understanding of what’s truly best for them because you know what it means to make a leader of oneself when no one around you thinks you’re capable. But that’s all you need to be.”
His opinion of me, that he thinks I’ve made a leader of myself against all odds, is strangely flattering. But I don’t want to be flattered. “It’s all you need me to be. Maybe I need more.”
“Then take a lover. Not now, of course. Wait a few years—”
I yelp in offense.
“So that you’ve proved your loyalty to me, that’s all I ask.” I have no idea why he thinks that will placate me. “And then romantically, you may do as you like.”
“It’s not about romance, okay?” I can only imagine that he’s so in love with himself that he can’t believe I’m not. “I’m not asking you to be in love with me. I’m asking you not to make me look like a fool.”
We stand there in silence both of us unwilling to bend, while the stupid connection between us grows more urgent, begging us to given in.
“End it with her,” I plead in a whisper.
His denial is a hoarse, “No.”
“Do you love her?” I’m prepared for the answer to hurt because, as much as I dislike Nathan, he’s my mate. I want him to at least care about my feelings. It’s such a small thing to ask of him.
Nathan laughs at my question. “That’s incredibly naive of you.”
“Why naive?” I demand, my stomach turning over at the way he dodged the question.
“One needn’t be in love with one’s mistress.” It’s still not an answer, and he won’t look me in the eye. “Any more than one needs to be in love with one’s own wife.”
I say absolutely nothing, while he casts his gaze around the sitting room. “If that’s all, we should go upstairs.”
If that’s all? I do my best to push down my shock, my hurt, and the loneliness of the past week in the prison of my tower. And I say, “No.”
The attraction between us is a physical ache. His broad chest and strong arms look so good to me. I want to be trapped underneath him, my nails raking down his arms, legs locked around his waist.
Mystical bond or not, I value myself too much to compromise my principles.
Nathan cocks his head, almost as if he’s amused. “Are you cutting me off?”
“If that’s how you want to perceive the situation.” I can’t stand the sight of him. I won’t be able to stand myself if I give in now and give up any more ground in the fight.
“You’re angry—”
“You’re right. I am angry. I’ve asked you to do something important for me, you refused, so I’m refusing something that’s important to you.” There. How do you like it?
He smirks. “You’re expected to produce heirs to the throne.”
I cluck my tongue in mock sympathy. “And you were so looking forward to having those heirs.” I go to the intercom and call Hannah. “Hey, you can come back. My mate is just leaving.”
Nathan shakes his head, still smirking, still not understanding that I’m going to win and he’s going to lose. He picks up his shirt and swiftly unbuttons it and turns it right side out. “To be clear, you’re asking me to break things off with Amber—”
I tut in admonishment at the mention of her name.
“You’re asking me to break things off with my mistress, and if I do not, you won’t let me fuck you?”
Damn his choice of phrase. The obscene word jolts through our connection and I want to squeeze my thighs together. My willpower is steel, though. “I’m asking you to choose your queen and your heirs over your vanity. We all have to make sacrifices, Nathan.”
He nods, never dropping that smug expression that tells me he doesn’t take me seriously, he will never take me seriously, that I don’t matter at all. He says, “I’ll see you at breakfast,” pulls his shirt on and strides toward the door, which he opens onto a very startled Hannah. She steps back as he stalks past her without a word, then she looks to me, bewildered, for an explanation.
How do I explain that I just won an argument but lost everything?
CHAPTER 30
Nathan doesn’t see me at breakfast. He doesn’t see me for another whole week. I thought for sure that his panic about needing an heir would drive him to my bed before my fertility window closed, but he’s as stubborn as I am.
